


You can stay up there right next to me

by harriet_vane



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Frottage, Harry being extremely odd and also wonderful, Liam being very very lonely and uncool, M/M, Mild Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 02:07:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2450708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harriet_vane/pseuds/harriet_vane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam's mum always told him that playing the guitar at school would get girls to notice him. So far the only one who had noticed him was Harry Styles, which was infinitely more confusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You can stay up there right next to me

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this as something like WIP amnesty. I started this a year ago and I like it too much to throw it away, but never had time to make it the epic saga I originally meant it to be. I hope it's enjoyable as it is. :)
> 
> [Tora](http://archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski/pseuds/torakowalski) beta'ed/britpicked, [sunsetmog](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog) and [mistresscurvy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mistresscurvy/pseuds/mistresscurvy) helped me immensely with this. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Please **don't** post this fic anywhere else, please **don't** distribute it anywhere, please **don't** put it on goodreads, and really really please don't link it to anyone being written about here. Thanks!

Liam and his guitar had become part of the wallpaper of the school; no one really noticed that he usually sat on a table playing chords to himself during free periods and lunch. There were plenty of other students doing music A levels, but most of them played piano or violin or something. Liam was the only one who carried his guitar around all day.

Mostly it gave him something to do with his hands, so he didn't fidget. He always had a lot of energy, and on weekends he could work it out playing football, or running, but at school, he wanted something to do so he didn't have to look at all the other students and not know what to say to them. His mum had rather optimistically assumed the guitar would give him something to talk about with them. "They'll like that, won't they? You'll be really cool." 

"Liam's not cool, mum," Ruth said helpfully. Liam scowled at her. He was finally in year thirteen so he could wear a checked shirt and his chucks and the leather bracelets he'd got as a present from Nicola, and he'd straightened his hair in quite a cool way. If no one at school noticed then that was their problem, really. 

His mum insisted that people – girls – would want to chat to him if he had a guitar. He’d be really popular. Liam had been a bit hopeful about that at the start, but it hadn’t happened and it hadn’t happened and eventually he’d given up and enjoyed being ignored because it meant no one bothered him. Liam didn't mind not being hassled like he had been all through year seven and eight and nine

And then one day, at the start of the spring term, he looked up and there was a boy leaning against his table. He had curly hair and a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Liam sort of expected the first thing out of his mouth to be a sly insult, but instead he just leaned in a bit closer and said, "Hi."

"Hi," Liam said automatically, and a bit uncertainly. If Liam's general experience of being at school held true then the next thing this boy said would be something like, "Your guitar is stupid and your hair looks gay," and Liam was beyond tired of being called names. 

"You play guitar," the boy said, nodding to himself like he'd just discovered that.

Liam looked down at his hands, which were in fact in the middle of strumming through Redemption Song out of habit. "Yeah," he agreed, bracing himself for whatever was coming next. He liked this table, and he didn't want to have to move to another one.

"Cool," was all the other boy said. Liam squinted at him, trying to listen for the sarcasm in his tone, because sometimes he missed it. 

A small whirlwind of girls in year ten came over, overwhelmingly smelling of perfume and hair spray and giggling to each other. "Harry, come and sit with us!" one of them said, grabbing the boy by both hands. He smiled at her, a long, slow sort of smile that made all the girls flutter and explode into laughter. 

"Yeah, okay," Harry said, and then turned back to Liam. "Your guitar is cool," he said, with the slowest, laziest cadence Liam had ever heard. And then he let the girls pull him away.

Well, then. That was one person at school who thought so. Liam didn't know how to feel about it, so he put his head down and concentrated on the quite complicated strum pattern he was trying to learn off youtube videos.

—

It happened again during a free period the next day. Most students had left to go and get chips, and Liam quite liked being alone in the common room. Only then Harry wandered over and stood there, bobbing his head slightly awkwardly as Liam strummed through Faith by George Michael. 

"Hiya," said Harry. 

Liam had overheard someone telling someone else that Harry Styles was a new student, and that he was in all the top classes, and somehow instead of everyone immediately hating him for being so swotty, he was the coolest new student to ever exist. 

Liam kept looking at him, but he couldn't quite see where the coolness was coming from. Harry's face was quite goofy, really, and he waggled his eyebrows in a way that would definitely have got Liam laughed out of any conversation. "Hello," said Liam. He could feel his eyebrows drawing together in disapproval, which he didn't mean, but really. What on earth did Harry want?

"I like your bracelet," said Harry, helping himself to a seat on the table next to Liam.

"Okay," said Liam, and then thought that might be quite rude, so he added, "I like your necklace."

Harry looked down at his necklace and beamed. "Thanks. Are you in a band?"

Ah, maybe Harry mistakenly thought Liam was a lot cooler than he really was. "No," said Liam, and didn't go on to explain that he wanted _desperately_ to be in a band, only he didn't know anyone who played bass or drums or anything a band needed. He'd thought about putting a sign up in a shop window or something, but that seemed a bit sad, actually. "More singer-songwriter, you know, independent stuff." 

"Oh, like High Highs and Korey Dane?" Harry asked.

Liam had never heard of them, so he probably looked a bit blank. "Jason Mraz," he offered. "Or like, the acoustic Owl City."

"Cool," said Harry, and nodded, seeming really satisfied with that answer. He looked around the empty common room, still bobbing to himself, or maybe bobbing in time to Liam's guitar. Then he leaned over and squinted at one of the cheerful posters reminding students about the upcoming play, and nearly toppled off the table, except Liam grabbed his arm. 

Liam also managed not to drop his guitar, which he thought was pretty well done of him. "You alright?" Liam asked. 

"Whoops," said Harry, not seeming sheepish in the least. "I'm a bit clumsy."

"You couldn't really fall off a table," said Liam doubtfully.

Harry stared at him for a second, and then leaned over and poked Liam right where his eyebrows were coming together in concern. Harry burst out laughing.

"What?" Liam asked, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand.

"You make these _faces_ ," said Harry, which might have been an insult, but then Harry hopped off the table and made it look halfway graceful. "Do you sing?"

"Yeah," said Liam. 

"Cool," said Harry. "Me as well. Do you want some chips? I'm meeting people."

"What?" Liam asked. "Um. No thanks?"

"Okay," said Harry. "See you around." He waved and walked off. There _was_ something quite cool about him, a bit hypnotic maybe. Liam couldn't stop staring, certainly. He righted his guitar and did a quick check to make sure it was still in tune. Not that anyone was listening to him, usually, but if Harry was going to keep popping by, it couldn't hurt to at least be in tune.

—

Harry kept popping up.

He sat with Liam outside when Liam was practicing for his Music Performance exam; he sat with Liam in the common room when Liam was playing old Beach Boys songs. And Harry could sing, it turned out. He burst out with some Rolling Stones one day, and Liam smiled to himself under his fringe and started playing Paint It Black. Harry grinned at him, and Liam hummed a harmony, and everyone else in the common room turned around to look at them, which was a first for Liam.

He didn’t know what to make of it. Harry didn't seem to want anything. He just wanted to chat about A-level compositions, and what Liam's favorite Beatles' album was, and what Liam thought about Vampire Weekend. 

Sometimes he'd catch Harry making elaborate faces at him, all eyebrows and silly twists to his mouth, and he was sure Harry was mocking him, but then Harry would burst out laughing and Liam wasn't sure if he should be cross or not. And anyway, Harry pulling faces at him was _something_. Otherwise school was a lot of despair over maths and wishing every lesson could be PE or music or a free period. 

Harry had lots of other friends; the teachers loved him and let him do whatever he wanted, more or less, and his marks were good even though he didn't seem to bother much about homework. The girls followed him around and he flirted shamelessly with them, especially the ones in upper sixth. Sometimes Liam was fairly sure he saw Harry flirting with the boys as well. Liam didn't know what to make of that; when Liam wore bracelets he got shoved into walls, and Sean McMahon had spent a full month of year eleven spilling things deliberately onto Liam's shirts and blazer to get him in trouble with the teachers. But no one batted an eye at Harry, and none of the rules seemed to apply to him.

When Harry wasn't leaning against hallways whispering to girls, he popped up behind Liam and quizzed him about starting a band. "You're going to, aren't you? You've got a killer voice."

Liam would usually shrug and stop singing, because he didn't know what to do when Harry said that sort of thing, and Harry would grin continue to sit with him as if they were having a really great conversation instead of Harry just making Liam feel a bit strange about things. If Harry could tell things were strange then he just ignored it, so Liam did as well.

The other students had never taken any notice of Liam, and he didn't really think they would now, not even with Harry following him around during free periods and sitting next to him when he played guitar. "I'm going to get a tambourine," Harry said, clapping along.

"You don't have to do that," said Liam, looking at his fingers as he switched chords. He hadn't needed to do that in years, not since his fingers had got long enough to do a barred F without slipping all over the place, but he looked at his fingers so he wouldn't have to look at Harry. 

"I'll get a tambourine and a little, what do you call it, a shaky bell thing. And I'll shake the bells and clap my tambourine on my thigh with my other hand, and it'll be a proper jam session." Harry grinned like this was the cleverest thing anyone had ever said.

Liam strummed through the chord changes of Sloop John B a couple of times. Harry was still sat next to him on the table, though, looking expectant and bright-eyed, and there was a group of girls sat at the next table who were looking at them both and giggling. 

Harry had a natural sort of charm that was all at odds with how weird he was. Liam couldn't get over it. Harry was genuinely the weirdest person he'd ever met. He'd nearly walked straight off a landing the other day, and would have broken his neck on the stairs if Liam hadn't grabbed his arm. And he liked to walk into rooms full of strangers and throw up his arms with a grin and shout, "Hello!" 

Everyone always shouted hello back to him. Liam couldn't understand it. No one ever shouted hello to him.

"You must really miss your friends in a band at your old school, yeah?" Liam tried, because there had to be a logical explanation.

"I didn't know anyone in a band at my old school," said Harry. "We're starting a band, though, right? You and me?"

Liam stared at his hands again and hoped his fringe has fallen across his eyes and Harry wouldn't be able to tell his cheeks were burning. It was probably a joke; Harry said really odd stuff sometimes and then laughed when Liam stared at him in confusion. 

"Liam," said Harry, poking Liam's knee with one of his boney fingers. "Liam, are we going to be a band?"

"Yeah, alright," Liam mumbled, and didn't look up, in case Harry laughed.

"Good," said Harry, sounding satisfied. He leaned back and Liam risked a glance at his face; Harry looked smug. But then, Harry looked smug sort of a lot.

Liam hated that he couldn't stop himself from saying, "Really?" His fingers had gone into the chords for the Pearl Jam version of Last Kiss, because it was the first song he'd learned, and it was what he played when he wasn't thinking well.

"I told you. I'm going to get a tambourine," said Harry, like that was an argument. "What are you playing now? Can I harmonize?"

"You can do what you'd like," Liam mumbled. Last Kiss was a stupid song to play, but Harry started singing along, and after a minute Liam joined in softly. The girls were staring for sure. They never stared when it was just Liam. He'd have to get Harry to front the band, so people would actually come and see them. 

—

"Which one is it that you fancy?" Harry asked, sitting down next to Liam in maths. That was odd, because Harry had never been in his maths lesson before.

But when the teacher gave him a look, Harry smiled guilelessly, and the teacher, like every adult Liam had seen interact with Harry, just looked surprised and helpless, and didn't say anything.

"What?" Liam asked. He was in the middle of being extremely confused by the quadratic equation, which he should have mastered at least three years ago. "Which one is A and which one is B, I thought they were all meant to be an X or a Y?"

"Which of the girls do you fancy?" Harry repeated. He was looking at a knot of girls at the front of the room. They all turned round to stare at Harry and whisper and giggle and one of them even waved. 

They'd never waved at Liam. No one even looked at him, which was actually sort of a blessing, because his school had agreed to him taking his A-levels, even though he hadn’t passed enough GCSEs, as long as he retook maths. It was embarrassing to be in with the year 11s, but as long as no one noticed him anyway, it didn't feel quite so odd to be the only one out of school uniform in his lessons.

He felt a bit rubbish about everything, except yesterday Sarah Morris had asked him how he knew Harry, and was it true they were starting a band? Liam had stammered out something about not really knowing Harry very well, actually, and she'd given him quite a serious look. It was the first time Liam could remember Sarah Morris speaking to him since Reception. 

"I dunno – I don't – Aren't you meant to be in a different lesson right now?" Liam sputtered. 

"Oh my god, you've made a hash of this," said Harry, looking over Liam's shoulder at his paper. "No, it's minus B, and you divide by two A, weren't you paying attention?"

"Yes," said Liam, moving his paper slightly defensively out of Harry's line of sight. "It doesn't help because I've got no idea what A is."

Harry stared at him for just a second, and then laughed, like he thought Liam was joking. Liam wasn't, but he smiled back at Harry uncertainly, because it was better than thinking Harry was laughing at him. 

Two of the girls snuck back to the empty seat next to Liam. There was always an empty seat next to Liam. "Hi, Harry," whispered Jenna Robinson. "Did you sneak in to see us?"

"No," said Harry, doing that half-a-grin thing he did so effectively. "I snuck in to see Liam." He put an arm around Liam's neck and pulled Liam into a hug, and Liam worked very hard to try and look as if this sort of thing happened to him sometimes, and he knew what was going on. 

The girls giggled to each other. "Oh, is that right, Liam?" Jenna asked, and she maybe batted her eyes at Liam. Liam was so baffled by this sudden change in attitude – she had walked straight into him and spilled her Coke all over him last month and didn't even say sorry or look at him or anything – that he just sat there and probably seemed quite stupid. He couldn't help it. Jenna was well fit, and she smoked, and she had a boyfriend at university who played football. She had boobs for days, as well, not that Liam had ever admitted to noticing that, only she didn't do her tie up properly and her shirts always gapped a bit.

"I was attempting to teach people here, Mister Styles," said the teacher, shaking her head. The girls elbowed each other and went back up to their seats. They kept looking back at Harry, who shook his head.

"You didn't say anything," he whispered to Liam.

"Well," said Liam. "No."

"You're rubbish," said Harry, sounding weirdly delighted. Liam could feel his cheeks heating up again – surely Harry knew he was rubbish before this, he knew Liam was in maths with year elevens, Liam couldn't understand why Harry was always hanging round him if he knew how rubbish Liam was – but Harry squeezed his hand on Liam's shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll fix it." And then Harry was up and gone, hopefully to wherever he was meant to be this whole time, and Liam was left, even more confused than he was when he was just trying to work out his maths problem. 

—

It wasn't warm, but it was sunny outside, so Liam was where he could get a little space and play a little louder, on a bench. Harry sat down next to him, which was weird, because surely Harry had a hundred other places he could be. "If we're going to be a band," said Harry, "you're going to need to get better at pulling."

"Can I get better at it if I've never tried to do it at all?" Liam wondered.

"Well, you can't get worse," said Harry, with finality. "When we're a band, there's going to be pussy everywhere, so you have to learn to deal with it."

Liam made what he hoped was a neutral sort of noise about that, because he would believe they'd be a band when and if it happened – even though he sort of _hoped_ Harry was serious, but he couldn't let himself do that for real – and even if they were a band, he was fairly sure the — the— the girls would all be for Harry. Liam couldn't even think the word 'pussy' without his cheeks going pink. 

"Okay, the next girls who walk by," Harry said, "I want you to picture them with their tops off."

Liam looked up, and the next girls walking by were two year tens holding their books in front of their noses. "No," he said, putting his head down again. 

"Liam," said Harry, sounding exasperated. "Okay, pretend I'm a girl you're trying to pull. What would you say?" 

"Uh," said Liam, watching his fingers again, even though he didn't need to. "Hi?" He looked up and gave Harry a smile. 

Harry burst out laughing and nearly fell off the bench. "Oh, that's brilliant."

"Is it?" 

"No. I mean, it's brilliant as like, a joke," Harry explained, righting himself, and shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Seriously, you're like, eighteen, right?"

"Seventeen," Liam said. "My birthday’s end of August."

"Ah," said Harry slowly. "Right, then. Well, when you've pulled, what did you say? It wasn't just 'hi,' was it? The girls here aren't that hard up for it."

Liam paid very careful attention to his chord changes for a while, which was silly, because he was just going from D to G, and that was easy. He threw in some Fs to make it more complicated, but that just sounded weird. 

"Liammmmm," said Harry, poking at Liam's leg. 

"I asked Susan MacGregor out," said Liam eventually, pretending he was talking to himself, because it was easier that way. "She laughed at me. And then some of my mates told me she was just kidding and she really did like me, and I did it again, and she laughed again."

"Fuck," said Harry. "Really? That's shit."

Liam shrugged one shoulder and looked very hard at his guitar. "My fault for believing them."

"What mates are these?" Harry asked, looking around as if they'd suddenly appear. "They're shit mates."

"Just, y'know, some of the lads. We hang out. On weekends. Sometimes." The whole conversation was making Liam's stomach hurt. "Listen, what do you _want_? You can't seriously want to be in a band with me, I can't even chat up a girl. Go and find someone cool who plays guitar. Stop bothering me."

A small group of girls walked by, chorusing, "Hi, Harry!" and then giggling madly and rushing off when he looked up. Liam hated being rude, normally, but Harry was really wearing on his nerves. 

"D'you fancy a banana?" Harry asked.

Liam had to stop playing then, grabbing the strings so they wouldn't keep vibrating, and looking up at Harry in confusion. "Do I what?"

"I've got two," said Harry, pulling bananas out of his satchel.

"You are genuinely the weirdest person I've ever met," said Liam. "Er. Sorry."

Harry leaned back and looked up at the clouds. He was shivering a little bit in his uniform jumper. "Why can't I be in a band with you?" Harry asked.

"Because it's confusing," said Liam honestly.

Harry asked, "What if I'm not confused?"

"I don't know, then you can try and explain it to me," said Liam. 

Harry sat and ate his banana quietly for a while. Liam went back to playing Redemption Song, because he didn't know what else to do with his hands. 

"Okay," said Harry eventually, in his laziest drawl. "I'm not confused, but I think explaining it would be confusing. I like you, though. You're not like everybody. And I think you have an ace voice, so I want to be in a band with you. And don't worry about the girls, okay? I can show you how to pull. It's not so hard."

The girls were the farthest thing from the problem, but Liam didn’t know how to tell Harry that. "It's hard for me," said Liam.

"I bet it is," Harry said, and snickered. Liam took just a second too long to figure out what he meant, and then he could feel his face going scarlet. "We have to start with the basics," said Harry. "Maybe getting them naked is a bridge too far. You should come over to my house."

Harry had this tendency to change the direction his sentences suddenly. "What?" Liam said.

"You come over to my house, and we'll have a study session. I can help you with maths, too, if you'd like." 

"But… why would you do that?" Liam asked.

Harry grinned. "Because I want to, and I'm weird." 

That was inarguable. "Are you just winding me up for some awful prank?" Liam asked.

"Jesus," said Harry. "No. Liam, we have to find you some new mates."

Liam’s mates had mostly not gone on to sixth form. He didn’t miss them much. "I mean. I suppose it sounds alright? If you really mean it?"

"We'll start at the very beginning," said Harry. "A very good place to start."

"That's the Sound of Music," Liam said.

Harry laughed. "You bet it is."

—

Liam still half thought Harry was joking, even when Harry put his number in Liam's phone, and even when Harry repeated his address twice. Harry lived on a really nice street in a really posh house and Liam had his dirty jeans on and his guitar slung over his back and his fringe falling in his eyes and felt entirely out of place. 

Harry answered the door, and no one jumped out to laugh at Liam for showing up or anything, so he relaxed the tiniest bit. "Hi," he said, hands in his pockets. "I brought my guitar? And also my maths. And some biscuits my mum baked, she said I needed to bring something, so. Hi."

"Hi," said Harry. "That's great. Biscuits are great. C'mon in."

Harry's house was enormous. Liam was pretty sure his entire house would fit in Harry's kitchen, and everything was new and shiny. "Wow," said Liam.

"Yeah, my stepdad's kind of rich," said Harry, with a careless shrug. "Gimme a biscuit."

"They're not very nice," said Liam cautiously, pulling the tupperware out of his satchel. "I mean, if you're used to nice ones from the shops. Mum made them a couple of days ago, anyway, so—"

"Give me a biscuit, Liam," said Harry, rolling his eyes. Liam pulled one out and handed it over, and Harry crammed the entire thing in his mouth and chomped loudly. Liam giggled in spite of himself. "S'good," said Harry. "Want some milk? Or a sandwich or something? Put your guitar anywhere. We can get to that later. I'm starved, are you starved?"

"Okay," said Liam agreeably. Harry poked his head into their enormous fridge and pulled out ham and bread and cheese and started making sandwiches. Liam hadn't realized he was hungry until Harry started putting sandwiches together. "Are your parents home?"

"Mum and Gemma are shopping, and my stepdad's working. Some crisis thingy," said Harry. "Here, I hope this is alright." He handed Liam a sandwich on a plate.

Liam didn't usually bother with plates, he just stuffed food in his mouth, but his mum would have approved. They sat there quietly, eating, for a few minutes. Liam couldn't think of anything else to ask – "Is it nice being rich? Why did you move to Wolverhampton if you didn't have to? How many girls at school have you already pulled?" – so he just sat quietly and hoped Harry would say something. 

Liam must have been bobbing his head a bit as he ate, because he realized suddenly that Harry was mimicking him, bobbing and chewing and pulling faces. It looked so _silly_. Liam laughed and tried not to spit sandwich all over Harry's nice counter. 

"You're funny," said Harry, which was mystifying. "Okay, wash your hands. I'll get the breath mints."

"Breath mints?" Liam echoed, swallowing the last bit of sandwich. "Why do we need those for studying?"

"You'll see!" Harry called, rooting around in a drawer. 

Well, Harry wasn't getting any less weird, so Liam washed his hands, and put both their plates in the sink and washed them, because that was the sort of thing he did when he was a guest. 

"Here," said Harry, popping up behind Liam. He held out three little white and blue speckled breath mints. 

"Who's the last one for?" 

"They're all for you," said Harry. He grinned and stuck out his tongue, which had four mints on it.

"Weird," said Liam, in case Harry wasn't aware, but he took the mints anyway. Maybe Harry had a thing about breath. 

"C'mon up to my bedroom," said Harry, and grabbed Liam's hand. Liam wasn't sure what to do about that – in his experience lads didn’t grab other lads' hands – so he grabbed his satchel with one hand and let Harry tow him up a flight of stairs and to a quite nice bedroom with a large bed. It was reassuringly messy, even if all of Harry's posters were framed instead of just stuck to the wall with bits of tape. 

"Just sit anywhere," said Harry, so Liam helped himself to a perch on the edge of Harry's bed. He rooted through his bag, looking for his maths notes, and a biro, and a highlighter. He wanted to show Harry that he was a disaster at maths but he was prepared to _try_. He really did plan to put in a good-faith effort.

Then he looked up and Harry was kneeling on the bed next to him, leaning in right next to Liam's face. Liam was so startled he nearly swallowed one of the breath mints. "What?" Liam said, scooting backward slightly. 

Harry crawled forward. "We're not starting with maths," he said. He took the papers out of Liam's hands, and Liam didn't do much to stop him. Harry tossed Liam's carefully arranged notes and biros on the floor. 

"We're not?" Liam asked. "Should I get my guitar?"

Harry stared at him for a second. He closed his eyes and shook his head, and then opened them again. "You are really, really bad at this," he said. "Don't be offended, okay? But I've been around you at school and I don't think you've got enough confidence to pull."

That hurt a little bit, but it was also entirely true. Actually, the truth of it made it worse. "Yeah," Liam said, trying not to sound miserable. "I suppose not."

"Have you kissed anyone?" Harry asked, frowning with concern.

Liam felt like he was going to be sick. So this was the part where Harry made fun of him and it was awful, and then at school on Monday Harry told everyone, and they sat around the common room and laughed at Liam when he wasn't looking. He tried to smile, or at least look like he wasn't going to cry. "I can just go," Liam said. 

He went to grab his satchel, but Harry got hold of his hand first. "Liam," he said, sounding frustrated. "I don't mean it like that. I think you need to kiss someone, so you've got the confidence to pull, so you can kiss someone."

Liam didn't understand. He'd expected to feel stupid, talking about maths, and he felt worse than that with Harry looking at him so earnestly, as if he what he'd just said made sense. "I should go," Liam said again.

"Or," Harry said, "you could kiss me."

Liam could have said "No," or "stop making fun of me," or shoved Harry away. Instead he heard himself say quietly, "But you're a boy." Which wasn't at all a no. Harry's mouth was awfully close to his, and Harry was holding his hand. 

Harry’s face went blank and unreadable. It had been the wrong thing to say, Liam knew immediately. Harry flirted with boys, sometimes. Liam had thought about it, very quietly and secretly, but he tried not to think about thinking about it. He had enough problems. 

"Right, it's a demonstration," said Harry. "It's just practice."

Liam couldn't get his head round it. Practicing with a boy? He must have been staring, because Harry shook his head. "Just, let me, okay? You're fit, Liam, and if you knew you were, you could pull any girl at that miserable school." 

"You're crazy," said Liam. Not because the idea of someone thinking he was fit was so unbelievable, but because Harry was popular and cool and above all a _lad_. Liam stared at Harry's mouth and tried not to see how red it was. He hadn't kissed anyone, and he wanted to. He'd never seriously thought about kissing another lad, though. It wouldn't count, would it? Was Harry winding him up for a joke? 

But he couldn't bring himself to say no, either. 

"We'll practice until you're brimming with confidence," said Harry. "Then you'll be the band's sexy guitar player, and all the girls will know it. Really I'm just being selfish, because I want the band to be a success."

"But…" said Liam. He was leaning away from Harry, which was probably rude, but he didn't know what to do. He couldn't lean _in_. He couldn't move.

Harry stared at him for a minute. He seemed to come to some sort of decision. "Hang on, I'll make it easier," said Harry. "Don't move, okay? Stay right here?" He gave Liam a terribly serious look. Liam just nodded, mute. He wasn't sure he could stand up if he'd wanted to. No one had ever tried to insist on kissing him before. His heart was pounding and he felt a little dizzy. 

Harry scrambled off the bed and left the room for a minute. Just long enough for Liam to start thinking how mad the whole thing was, and how he really should leave before things happened. Strange things. Kissing things, maybe. 

"I'm back!" said Harry. "And I nicked this from Gemma's room. Now it'll be just like kissing a girl, and you don't have to feel weird about it." He held out a tube of pink lip gloss triumphantly.

That did _not_ make things less weird. Liam watched, hypnotized, as Harry pulled out the tiny pink brush in the tube, and started putting gloss all over his lips. His mouth was already red, this just made it shiny, and oh god, Liam's stomach was flipping all over the place. He couldn't look away from Harry's mouth.

"Good, right?" said Harry. "Now you can close your eyes and pretend I'm Susan MacGregor."

Liam could _not_ do that. Harry didn't smell like Susan, for one thing. Harry was crawling back across the bed, mouth-first for sure, and he smelled like a boy, where Susan always smelled vaguely of baby powder or flowery hand lotion, like Liam's sisters did. And Harry's hand, when it landed on Liam's thigh, was at least twice as big as Susan's hand. 

"Close your eyes," said Harry quietly. Coaxingly.

Liam's eyes sank shut without him really deciding he wanted to do that. His heart hammered harder than ever against his ribs, and he couldn't breathe, which was making him dizzy again. "I don't know how—" he started, panic making his voice tight.

"Relax," said Harry, voice right in Liam's ear. Liam shivered. Harry's hand on his thigh felt like an anchor, the only thing holding him on the bed, and he was helpless to move after that. Harry's hand – much too big to be a girl's hand, and too rough – came up and cupped Liam's chin, turning his face toward Harry. Liam was scrunching his eyes shut tightly, he realized, when Harry laughed and rubbed his thumb on Liam's forehead until Liam let his eyebrows relax a little. "Relax," Harry repeated, and his mouth came up against the corner of Liam's mouth. Liam gasped in spite of himself, and he felt Harry laugh, just a little puff of air against his cheek. Harry's fingers tightened on his chin, tilting Liam's head slightly, and then Harry's mouth, soft and slightly sticky with lip gloss, pressed against Liam's. 

This was not at all how Liam had thought his first kiss would go. He'd assumed it would be a girl, for one thing, and he'd rather thought he'd be the one leaning forward, kissing her, hands on her face, taking charge of things in a manly sort of way. And instead it was Harry's hands, guiding him, and Harry's mouth, kissing him gently. Harry licked at Liam's lower lip and he knew he ought to open his mouth – he knew _that much_ , at least – but he wasn't sure he really wanted to. It was terrifying; Harry was younger than he was, and he knew so many things, and Liam was rubbish at this, and—

"Seriously, chill," said Harry quietly, against his mouth. He dug his thumb into Liam's thigh and Liam's mouth dropped open as he sucked in a startled breath, and then suddenly Harry's tongue was in his mouth.

Liam made an embarrassing, muffled, startled noise, and then, because he didn't know what else to do, he relaxed into it. Harry was pressed up against his chest, and his hand was big and warm and distracting on Liam's thigh, and his fingers felt enormous on Liam's chin, and his tongue was distracting in Liam's mouth. It was all too much; Liam's brain just shorted out and shut off, and he let Harry lick his way around Liam's mouth, sucking gently on Liam's lip, and all Liam could do was sit there and feel how enormously strange it was.

Strange, because it was exciting, and Liam's whole body was reacting to it. Not just his chest, feeling tight and airless, but his fingers tingling and face burning and hips trying to jerk up against Harry a little bit. Liam was terrified Harry would shove him away and laugh – his hips were apparently not under his control – but Harry kept kissing him, hands tight and mouth exploring Liam's carefully.

He was being so _gentle_. It took Liam a long minute to relax enough to realize that Harry wasn't kissing with the kind of over the top passion of a movie or the porn clips Liam had watched on youtube late at night. He was just kissing Liam, coaxing Liam to kiss him back, using his tongue delicately. Liam felt almost insulted, and then remembered that Harry wasn't really kissing him anyway; it was just practice for something else. 

Harry pulled back, but his nose was still resting against Liam's cheek. "Is this okay?" he asked quietly. "You're not freaking out, right?"

"I am a little," said Liam, because he was too overwhelmed to be anything but honest. He licked his lips and they tasted like lip gloss. "Oh my god, Harry. You _kissed_ me." He didn't add _and you've done your mouth up like a girl's_ because he thought that might be insulting. Or strange. Or maybe Harry didn't think it was strange at all, and he'd laugh at Liam for thinking it was. 

"You didn't really kiss me back, though," Harry said. There was something very gently chiding in his voice, just a little sadness that Liam hadn't… That he hadn't what? He'd been kissing Harry; surely that was kissing back? 

"You surprised me," Liam said. He wanted to draw his knees up and put his arms around them, but Harry still had one of his hands on Liam's leg. "I've never – I didn't know you were going to – What was I _supposed_ to—"

Harry laughed. "You don't have to do anything, Liam."

"I don't know what to do with my hands," Liam apologized. They were still on the bed behind him, propping him up.

"All you have to do is kiss me back," said Harry, with more confidence than Liam had ever had about anything in his entire life. "Okay?"

"I thought I was," Liam said.

"No, you let me kiss you. This time you have to kiss me back." Harry kissed the edge of Liam's mouth again and Liam could feel himself going stiff all over again, but he forced himself to keep breathing. Harry kissed him again, lining their mouths up this time, sucking on Liam's lower lip until Liam opened his mouth willingly this time. He tried – tentatively at first – moving his mouth against Harry's, trying to work out what _kissing back_ entailed. His tongue bumped Harry's, which was weird, but also weirdly great, and it made _something_ shiver all up and down Liam's spine. He moved one of his hands from behind him to very tentatively onto Harry's waist, and got what felt like a congratulatory lick for it. Harry bit at Liam's mouth and Liam tried to return the favor. He was getting a hint of what Harry tasted like underneath the breath mints he'd chewed. 

Harry moved and Liam's hand tightened reflexively in his shirt. Harry grinned a little at that, and Liam could feel his already overheated cheeks getting hotter. Harry kissed him, though, on the edge of his mouth and then down, along his jaw, and Liam's head tipped back without realizing what he was doing until Harry mouthed down under his chin and sucked gently on the birthmark on Liam's throat.

Shit, that felt good. "Oh my god," said Liam. His voice had always been deep, but now it sounded husky. "Harry, _shit_."

"You're doing better," said Harry, running his tongue over the sore spot he'd sucked on Liam's throat. "But you're still making me do most of the work."

"Oh no, am I? I didn't know I—"

"If I were a girl, would you just sit there?" Harry raised his head to quirk an eyebrow at Liam. 

Liam felt his stomach drop out from underneath him. "No," he said. "I suppose not."

"I should have put on Gemma's perfume. That would have made the whole thing better."

It would _not_ have made anything better. Liam tried to imagine Harry if he smelled like a girl, all flowery and powdery, with his glossy mouth and his giant hands. "Oh god," said Liam quietly. He felt dizzy.

Harry grinned. "Shut up and kiss me," he said. It sounded like he was joking, but Liam leaned forward quickly, before he lost his nerve, and kissed him.

It was even stranger being the one doing all the kissing, but Harry kissed him back – oh, that was what he meant – and suddenly it was a lot less terrifying. Liam wanted to be kissing him, and he told himself not to be shy about it, because Harry had invited him into this kiss. Liam had both hands on Harry, holding him close, and he tried to kiss Harry with all the gentleness Harry had kissed him with, but he was having trouble not just pushing his tongue against Harry's and kissing him as hard as he could.

There was a banging noise downstairs, and someone yelled, "Harry! We're home! Come and help put the shopping away." 

Liam startled back from Harry like he'd got an electric shock. "Your _mum_ —" he started, horrified. What would she think of Harry with a boy in his bedroom, _kissing_? Liam would have been grounded for the rest of his life. Maybe longer. 

"It's fine," said Harry, kissing Liam's cheek. "That was just getting good, come back."

Harry's fingers were creeping further up Liam's thigh. "Your mum, though!" Liam said, horrified. "You'll get in trouble."

"She doesn't care, I promise," said Harry, mouthing at Liam's neck again. 

"Harry!" she shouted again.

Harry groaned and flopped over on the bed. "I've got a friend over, we're studying!" Harry yelled back. He tipped his head so he could look at Liam, upside down. "You're doing an anatomy A level, right?" Harry asked, with a cheeky grin.

"Does anyone think you're funny?" Liam asked, trying not to laugh. He rubbed his neck with one hand. It felt strange. His neck was no longer a virgin neck. He'd had someone kissing it. He wondered if it was all red. Was his mouth red? Did it look different? Would Harry's mum be able to look at them and see what they'd been up to? Most of the lip gloss had come off Harry's mouth, but it still looked red and wet and distracting. 

"Is he staying to tea?" Harry's mum shouted. Harry looked at Liam, who shrugged because inviting himself was rude. 

"Yeah," Harry yelled back. He shook his head at Liam. "I _am_ funny," Harry said, not sounding concerned. 

"You aren't." Liam tugged on the edge of Harry's duvet. He hadn't really thought about this being Harry's bed, where presumably Harry had brought girls. Or boys, maybe. And he'd done… things. The sort of things that Liam hadn't done at all, the sort of things Liam only thought about guiltily in the shower, before Ruth or Nicola began banging on the door shouting about him using all the hot water. "Shouldn't we go and help your mum?"

"If she really wanted me to help, she'd have come up," said Harry, shrugging.

Liam tried to imagine that and nearly whited out with horror. "And... What would she think if…"

"She wouldn't think much of it, I don't think. Maybe a lecture about using a condom. Shall we look at your maths, instead?"

Liam had forgotten his maths work was scattered across Harry's floor. "You're a very interesting person, Harry Styles," Liam said. He hoped it sounded complimentary. He meant it that way, probably.

Harry grinned. "Now you're a bit more interesting, too, Liam Payne." 

—

Never mind his adventures with Harry over the weekend, no one at school seemed to think Liam was the slightest bit different. It was a relief and also terrible, both at the same time. He'd almost hoped that people at school would look at him and think, _that's a person who's definitely kissed people, he knows what he's doing_. But he was a bit worried they'd know it had been with a boy, and that – Liam was still working his head around that. 

At lunch, Harry sat down with him and gave him a critical look up and down. "You still sit like you're apologizing for taking up space," Harry said. 

"I don't," said Liam, holding his guitar a bit tightly. He had a momentary panic that Harry was looking at him too carefully, and whispering too closely in his ear and _people would know_ , but then he remembered that Harry looked at everyone as if he wanted to devour them. It was just Harry's natural state of being.

"When you grabbed me and pulled me in and kissed me properly, that was dead sexy," said Harry.

His voice was quiet, but Liam still felt a bit like he was going to die of embarrassment. "Shh, don't," he said, almost pleading. 

"You need to concentrate on _that_ ," said Harry. He was whispering right in Liam's ear, and it definitely looked a bit odd because some other students were looking. "Think confident and sexy, Liam."

No one had ever whispered "sexy" in Liam's ear before, and it was making Liam feel a bit strange. "Right, I'm confident and sexy, okay? Stop, Harry."

"You're a good kisser," said Harry, in his low growly voice, and then he pulled away with a grin that looked absolutely filthy. "Think about _that_ ," he added, loudly.

Liam felt like his face was going to catch on fire, it was so red. He tried not to stare at Harry's mouth, but the more Harry whispered, the more Liam remembered what it had felt like to have Harry's mouth on his. All these girls wished they knew what Harry tasted like. Liam looked at his hands on the neck of his guitar and said something he hoped sounded agreeable. 

It must have worked, because Harry wandered away to one of the other tables and started nicking food from students in Year 13 who Liam hadn’t even realized Harry knew. Liam went back to playing his guitar quietly, just reminding his fingers how the chord changes went, so he could get his breathing back under control. Somehow Harry was always making his heart bang out double-time, and it was exhausting.

Harry leaned down and whispered something in Jenny Pierce's ear. Liam wondered if it had looked _that_ filthy when Harry had whispered to him, because… Well, it looked a bit like Harry was sucking on her earlobe. Liam had enough troubles at school without everyone thinking Harry Styles sucked on his ears. 

It'd be worse if they knew Harry Styles sucked on other things, like his tongue, though.

After a minute, Jenny got up and walked over to Liam. Jenny was alright; she had glasses and she'd always done her tie up properly and had her socks even, and Liam couldn't remember her ever banging into him on purpose, or laughing when someone else did. "Hi, Liam," she said, chewing on her fingernail.

Liam hadn't known Jenny knew his name. "Hi," he said, trying to catch Harry's eye and figure out what Harry thought he was doing.

"Harry says you two are starting a band," said Jenny. There was a little flutter in her voice, as if she thought he and Harry were secretly forming Take That. 

"Might be," Liam said agreeably. Behind Jenny, Harry was waving his hands around trying to say _something_ , but Liam had no idea what it was. Harry kept winking with one eye and wiggling his finger and then – god, was he making a kissy face? It was terrible. Liam ducked his head so he couldn't see Harry.

"That's amazing," said Jenny.

Harry was jumping up and down. If he wanted Liam to do something, Liam wished he'd say what it was. "Yeah, I hope it'll be pretty good," said Liam. He considered for a second. "I dunno if Harry plays an instrument, though. He can sing, I guess."

"Cool," said Jenny. She bit her thumb and looked anxious. "I've always thought you sang really well."

Liam had sung at a school fair once, and a couple of times at talent shows and things. No one had pelted him with fruit, and his parents said he sounded great. He just really liked it, and didn't know what else to do with himself, because nothing else felt as good. He couldn't remember any other student actively searching him out to tell him he'd done well, though. "Thanks," said Liam. "Wow, thanks, that's really sweet." He smiled at her, and she smiled back, and behind her Harry was flapping like he thought he could take off and fly.

Jenny bit her lip for a minute, and Liam thought about her lip gloss, which was pink, and how Harry had worn lip gloss, and that made his fingers go all numb and he fumbled the next chord. Then one of her friends came up and grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

Harry walked over, shaking his head sadly. "That was dreadful."

"What?" Liam asked, a little defensive. "I talked to her. That's something."

"Did you think about how fit you are, and how she'd be lucky to kiss you?" Harry demanded. Liam had never heard him sound so serious.

"How was I supposed to get that from you waving your arms around like a maniac?"

"She _fancies_ you, Liam. She said so. Even if she's not your dream girl, you could use the practice. God."

Liam rather recoiled from using a girl for practice, especially one as nice as Jenny apparently was. On the other hand, he wouldn't object to kissing her, now that he had a good idea what kissing was like. "All she said was hello and are we starting a band," Liam pointed out. "She didn't ask me out for dinner or anything."

"She was hoping _you_ would—" Harry stopped and rolled his eyes. "Didn't you see the way she was looking at you?"

"Yeah," said Liam, because he didn't want to sound completely stupid.

"Like she wanted to _kiss you_?"

Liam scrunched up his forehead a bit at that. "Did she?"

Harry stared at Liam, and then suddenly he was staring _through_ Liam, eyes heavy and dark, mouth open just a little. He looked so intensely focused on Liam that Liam forgot to play his guitar again. He could feel his mouth dropping open, but he didn't know what to do with his face; Harry was looking at him like he wanted to eat Liam for lunch. Liam's heart stopped beating.

"Like that," said Harry.

"What?" Liam asked, which was difficult because it felt like his chest had collapsed in on itself.

"That's how you look at a girl," said Harry. He'd turned back into normal Harry somehow, the slightly odd kid who fell off things and made lousy puns. 

"I can't do that," said Liam certainly. He felt a bit shaky. 

"You just need more practice," said Harry, with a filthy smile, and then he was off to his lessons before Liam could come up with an argument against it.

—

"Come by mine," Harry said insistently, and Liam found himself in Harry's kitchen again. Harry's sister was fit, not that Liam was going to say so. He was pretty sure that whatever kind of flirting Harry wanted him to do, it wasn't with Harry's sister. 

"Nice to meet you, Liam," said Gemma, and smiled at him. Was that flirting? Liam couldn't imagine that it was, but Harry had made him hyper-aware of every girl he met and how they looked at him. Liam dropped his eyes to his hands, because he couldn't do that face Harry wanted him to do, and even if he could, he couldn't do it for Harry's sister.  
"Liam plays guitar. He's ace," said Harry, shoving crisps in his mouth. "We're starting a band."

"What are you gonna do, stand around and pull faces?" Gemma asked.

"Could do," Harry agreed, grinning at her. 

"You look like a troll, but Liam's cute," Gemma said, picking up her handbag.

"Leave off him, he's mine," said Harry. He pulled on Liam's sleeve until Liam stepped closer to him. Liam could feel his cheeks heating up. 

Gemma laughed. "Right, don't burn the house down, you two. Liam, don't let Harry talk you into the pool. It's freezing."

"You have a _pool_?" Liam blurted. He'd never heard of anyone who had a pool who wasn't in an American soap opera. 

"We can go skinny dipping later, if you'd like," said Harry, crunching and grinning. 

"So weird!" Gemma shouted on her way out of the house. Liam secretly agreed with her. 

Harry finished his crisps and wiped his fingers off on his jeans. "I need a breath mint, yeah?" he asked. That answered Liam's question about what they were doing there. "Hang on a tick, I left some somewhere. Here! You want?"

"Okay," said Liam, because if he were suddenly going to have Harry's tongue in his mouth again, he'd hate to have Harry cross with him because he still tasted of prawn cocktail crisps. "I should start carrying these around."

"Yeah?" Harry asked. "Planning on getting a lot of action?" 

Liam's face went red again. "Maybe? Just in case, I guess? Or, I mean… Because you…"

"I'm joking, Liam, relax. Actually, don't. This time, I want you to try and pull me."

Liam choked on his mint. 

"It'll be good for your confidence. A lot less of this 'staring at your trainers while the girls try and chat you up' nonsense. C'mon, give me your best sexy face."

"I haven't got one," Liam objected.

"You've never even tried. C'mon. Smolder at me."

Liam wasn't even sure what that meant. He gave Harry a bit of a dubious face, and Harry laughed and shook his head. 

"C'mon," said Harry. "Imagine I'm that girl, what's her name, the one who likes you." Harry put his fingers in his hair and twirled a curl around. It looked ridiculous. "Give me your best sexy look. Come on, don't just stand there like a lemon."

"I'm crap at this," said Liam, feeling embarrassed and desperately out of his depth. 

"Come on," said Harry.

Liam tried to imagine that Harry was Jenny, but Harry stubbornly stayed Harry with his hip cocked against the wall, twirling his hair around his finger. Liam tried giving him a very serious look, but as soon as he thought about his face, he could tell it was doing all sorts of odd things.

"You just look sad," said Harry. "Your default look is tragic. I suppose that'll work on some girls, though."

"It's just my face!" said Liam, exasperated.

"Well then, think about something you like. Guitars, or music, or never having to go to school again—"

Liam snorted a little laugh. 

"Better," said Harry. He put his hands on Liam's shoulders and pushed Liam so he was turned to face Harry. "Now, smile at me like that, and step in, like you're thinking about kissing me. I mean, whatshername."

"Jenny," said Liam. "I'm not sure she even fancies me, really."

"Worry about that later. Laugh again. C'mon, laugh." Harry reached out and wiggled his fingers into Liam's waist until Liam laughed at how it tickled. Harry just dug his fingers in harder, until Liam caught his hand. Harry, who was obviously a cheater, used his other hand when Liam wasn't watching, and Liam yelped and slapped at him and caught both his hands and had to step closer to hold them so Harry couldn't wriggle away. They were nearly chest to chest, and Harry's mouth was open and it looked awfully kissable. Liam's eyes were drawn to it like magnets. 

"Yeah," said Harry, and he sounded a million miles away, even though he was literally under Liam's hands. "You should look at me like that. Just like that."

"I'm not doing anything," Liam said, shaking his head, but he was still staring at Harry's mouth, and maybe he was even swaying in a little bit. His mouth just wanted to be on Harry's, and Harry was the same height he was, so it was easy.

"Yes," said Harry, breathy and quiet. Liam's heart was beating in his ears.

Liam realized belatedly he was still holding Harry's hands. He didn't know what to do with them, so he twisted them around so he was holding both of them right up between their chests, almost trapped. 

The strangest impulse seized him, and instead of leaning down to kiss Harry, who seemed like he probably would be okay with it, Liam kissed Harry's hand instead. Maybe it was less dangerous; it was just a hand. But when Liam brushed his lips against Harry's knuckles, Harry's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and Liam felt a strange rush in his chest. Almost like he'd scored in football, or won a round of FIFA, but better. His chest felt heavy and warm and like he'd forgotten how to breathe.

"You're getting better," said Harry, and twisted one of his hands free. Liam nearly objected, except Harry grabbed Liam's checked shirt and dragged him in closer. He didn't bother with the sort of very gentle touching he'd done last time, he just kissed Liam, his wide mouth pressing against Liam's, and Liam trying to kiss him back as eagerly as Harry was kissing. Last time he'd been so startled he hadn't known what to do, but this time he knew that it was alright to press into Harry, and it was alright to open his mouth and run his tongue along Harry's lips. 

Kissing Harry was like having electricity run all through his body. Liam wanted to press against Harry everywhere, his chest and his legs and his hips – Jesus, his hips were pretty excited about the whole thing, and he was a little worried that instead of kissing lessons with a friend, he was going to get a hard-on and end up horrifying Harry. He tried to make himself move back and take a breath, but Harry fisted his hands in Liam's shirt and dragged him closer, and Liam _wanted_ that, and he let Harry pull him close without much of a struggle.

It was so much better than the first time had been, just because this time Liam sort of knew what he was doing. Maybe Harry was actually on to something with his mad plan, Liam thought, and then he didn't think much of anything, because Harry had pushed one of his legs between Liam's, and he was _grinding_ on Liam. 

Liam couldn't breathe. He tried to gasp in a breath but Harry just took that as an excuse to kiss him harder, deeper, his tongue properly in Liam's mouth and doing all sorts of things Liam hadn't realized tongues could do. Liam's knees felt a bit wobbly; there was just _so much Harry_ kissing him. Harry was pulling Liam in, but Liam's hands had fluttered around and landed on Harry's arse somehow, and Liam wasn't sure if that was entirely allowed when they were just practicing. Then Harry bit Liam's lip, and Liam's hands tightened on Harry's bum out of reflex. Harry groaned, dark and a little dirty, into Liam's mouth. 

So he was allowed to grab, apparently. That was heady. 

Harry was still grinding against him and Liam was definitely getting hard, which sent a little jolt of panic through his stomach. "Wait, hang on," said Liam, pulling back, but Harry chased him, kissing him again so he couldn't finish his objection.

Harry would be upset when he felt Liam's dick pressing against his thigh, and then Liam was going to lose his only – his weirdest – friend. "Harry," Liam tried again, but it turned into a groan when Harry sucked on his jaw and used one of his hands on Liam's chest to squeeze his nipple. Liam's whole body jerked in response, his vision went all white around the edges while he failed to breathe or say anything else. When he came back to himself, Harry had pushed him back against the table, and was trying to unbutton his shirt.

"Wait, wait, _wait_ ," Liam panted, catching Harry's hands. "What are we doing? Is this still practice?"

He was embarrassed as soon as he'd said it; surely he should have known. Harry's chest was heaving and his mouth was red from kissing. Liam stared, a little awed. He'd made Harry look so hot and bothered. He could barely get anyone bothered about him, normally.

"Yeah, it's practice," Harry said eventually. He looked like he needed to take a few deep breaths and rally a bit, which Liam was grateful for, because his head was spinning. "Let me give you some tips."

"Yeah, alright," said Liam quickly. He wanted Harry to know he was taking it seriously. "What shall I – are my hands alright – I didn't mean to—"

"Tip number one, don't stop in the bloody middle like that," said Harry. "Jesus. You're a tease, Liam Payne."

Liam felt himself blush scarlet. "No one's ever thought that, I'm pretty sure."

Harry put his head down on Liam's shoulder, and Liam had a work surface digging into his back but he still tried to angle his hips away because having Harry brush up against his getting-hard dick would be so humiliating. "You have more game than you think," said Harry. 

"No, I… I mean, cheers, but… That's not…"

"What?" Harry asked, picking is head up. He had his hands on Liam's hips, and Liam's brain told him all the things Harry could do with those hands, if he just edged them closer to the flies on Liam's jeans. 

"If we kept doing that it was going to get proper embarrassing," Liam said, voice fading to a mumble. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

Harry looked baffled for a minute, all creased eyebrows and slightly twisted very red mouth. Then his mouth dropped open. "Oh," he said, and reached down and grabbed Liam's dick.

The noise Liam made was – well, it was undignified. He'd have jumped away but there was nowhere to jump, so he just banged his hip against the work surface and then had to bite his lip to stifle a shout of pain. "Harry, Jesus!" he squeaked.

Harry was palming his dick. Sure, it was through his jeans, but it was the first time anyone else had ever touched Liam's dick, especially when it was hard. Well, half-hard and getting harder. Harry had a look of almost clinical interest, like he was writing down all of Liam's responses in a notebook somewhere. It made Liam want to squirm, but he couldn't because with Harry's hand right there, he'd be squirming against Harry.

"Is this what you were worried about?" Harry asked. "S'fine." He moved his hand – thank god – and grabbed Liam's, and then suddenly Liam was palming Harry's dick instead. "See?"

Harry was half-hard, too. Liam forgot to breathe, and he was just standing there, gaping like an idiot. It was shocking to know that Harry was having feelings about kissing Liam, that it had affected him in this real, palpable way. "Oh my god," Liam said.

"You can't help what gets you hard," said Harry philosophically, as if he stood around with other people's hands on his private bits all the time. "Otherwise porn online wouldn't be so weird."

Liam had to share a computer with his sisters which meant if he typed in 'porn' it was entirely likely Ruth would see what had come up. He'd never got much further than browsing through the websites where she looked at bikinis, trying to find the models who had the biggest boobs so he could imagine their tops popping off. He knew what sort of things happened on the internet, though. Probably somewhere there was a page of teenaged boys grabbing each other's dicks. Someone might enjoy that.

Liam was rather worried that _he_ enjoyed it. "I didn't mean to," he said.

"It's kind of the whole point of the exercise," said Harry. He sighed. "Anyway, you were pretending I was Jenny, weren't you?"

"Um," said Liam, because he couldn't bring himself to lie.

"So don't worry about it," said Harry, taking Liam's not-answer as an answer, and kissing him again.

Liam had tried, at least. Harry groped him again, and Liam groaned loudly. Harry was so good at kissing, it made Liam's head spin. Not that he had anything else to compare it to, but he was pretty sure Harry was seriously properly good at this. 

Liam had always imagined that he'd be a gentleman about kissing and sex, but with Harry's hand massaging his dick, it turned out he couldn't really stop himself from grinding into Harry's hand and trying to get his hands under Harry's bum and – and what? Liam had a vague idea that he wanted to get his hands under Harry and pick him up and get Harry's legs around his waist, but that seemed a bit forward for kissing lessons. He moved one of his hands away and Harry promptly grabbed it and put it back. Liam laughed, and Harry bit him.

He hadn't thought he would have enjoyed being bitten, or groped, or having another boy grinding up against him. It turned out he did. His brain had turned into a faint happy hum, nothing much going on there except thinking about Harry's mouth, and Harry's hands. His dick was starting to ache, in a heavy, distracting way. He probably should have pushed Harry away again, but he'd never felt anything like this before. No one had ever been even vaguely interested in touching his dick before, or kissing him until his mouth felt raw.

"Yeah, like that," Harry said, a heavy whisper in his ear. Liam realized he was rubbing his hips against Harry's, and there was a low tingle in his belly that felt a lot like—

Oh, shit. "Harry—" Liam gasped, trying to push him away, but his heart was running a million miles an hour and the rhythm of his hips against Harry's was making little sparks dance along the edges of his vision.

"Yeah," Harry growled again, fingers slipping under the waistband of Liam's jeans. He sucked on Liam's neck, and his other hand pinched Liam's nipple again, and it was too much – Liam's brain shorted out, going black and then white and then he groaned the most embarrassing noise of his life, and came in his jeans.

For a long minute Liam couldn't move, which didn't seem to bother Harry, who was still kissing his neck and rubbing his fingers across Liam's skin on his hip. It was much, much too much. Liam felt so overstimulated that Harry's fingers were almost painful. And then he realized what he'd just done, and shit, Harry hadn't even realized, and it was _the worst thing_ Liam had ever managed to do, in a lifetime full of really embarrassing moments.

"You stopped," Harry pouted, pushing into Liam. His breath was ghosting over Liam's neck, and Liam wanted to shiver from it, but he was too wrung out and horrified to do anything. "Liam, c'mon, you're getting better, don't give up."

"No," said Liam, choked. His pants were sticky and he wanted to melt through the floor and die. "Harry, stop, shit, I—" He didn't know how to say it. His face felt like it was on fire, and he couldn't move because his jeans were getting so uncomfortable, and Harry touching him was making it worse. He pushed him back, arms stiff. He couldn't swallow, his throat was all lumps and misery.

Harry made a sad noise, fingers clinging to the belt loops on Liam's jeans. "No, why," he moaned.

"I've just—" Liam started, and couldn't finish. "I need to go. I'm going home." Could he get all the way to the bus feeling like this? Maybe he'd lie down in the street and hope a car would run him over. He wasn't sure he could walk very far, with everything all sticky and miserable. 

Harry was giving him a perplexed, unhappy look. "You can't go. We've barely even…. Oh, Liam. Oh." He was staring at Liam's crotch. Liam looked down in a panic – was there a wet spot on his jeans? Fuck, he was really going to throw himself in front of a car. Liam tried to pull away again, but Harry had enormous hands, and he was apparently stronger than he looked. "Okay, no big deal," Harry said. Was he smiling? "Just go to the toilet and clean up and we'll talk about how to _not_ do that with what's her name."

"Jenny," said Liam automatically. His face hurt from blushing. "Really, I'm sorry, I should go—"

"I'm flattered," Harry said, looking at him with a crooked smile. Was it possible to die from blushing? Liam was apparently going to find out. "But it's really not that big a deal. Don't worry about it. Once you start having sex on the regular it won't happen, anyway."

"But I—"

"Toilet's that way," said Harry, giving him a shove down the hall. He sighed. "She’s probably a virgin anyway, so she won't be very good at it, either."

Jenny was _so not the issue_ at the moment, but Liam didn't have the wherewithall to argue with Harry. He went into the bathroom and spent a few minutes cleaning himself up with a damp flannel and then wondering if he should burn it, rather than leave it for Harry's family to wash. 

How was he supposed to tell Harry that he hadn't, not even for one second, been thinking about Jenny?

He should have been. He knew Harry was just doing him a favor, and Harry was so careless about the whole thing, as if it didn't matter a bit. But it was rather a big deal to Liam, who had never in his wildest dreams thought the first time he got off with someone else it would be another lad, and it would be in his kitchen, with Liam still in his jeans. 

Was something horribly wrong with him? You weren't supposed to come in your pants just because a friend touched you a bit; Liam was fairly sure about that. He stared at himself in the mirror for a minute, trying to see whether he looked any different, now that he knew he was a terrible perv. His face looked the same; a bit sweatier, maybe, and Harry had mussed his hair. His cheeks were pink, but he didn't look like a monster. He just looked terribly, terribly embarrassed, which he was.

He probably couldn't live the rest of his life in Harry's bathroom, unfortunately. He splashed water on his face and took a deep breath, and tried to imagine what he'd say to Harry when he walked back out. 

Harry banged on the door. "Are you coming out or did you drown or something, Liam?"

"I am – I'm just –" Liam straightened his shirt and tried to swallow. He braced himself and opened the door.

Harry held out a can. "Want a Coke? Shit, that was hot, wasn't it?"

"What was?" Liam asked blankly, taking the drink.

"Us, snogging," Harry said. 

Was he teasing? Liam honestly couldn't tell. "I'm sorry," he said, just in case. He tried to imagine Harry ever inviting him anywhere again, and couldn't. 

"Your face is really sexy when you come," said Harry, and took a long drink of Coke like that was a thing that people said to each other. Liam spluttered and couldn't make a single word that made sense. Harry grinned at him. "Think about _that_ next time Jessie smiles at you."

"Who? Are you cross with me? I can't tell—"

“Janie. That girl you like,” Harry said, and he sounded proper huffy about it. 

Liam honestly couldn’t remember having ever fancied a girl right now. Not when Harry’s face had gone dark and a little sulky. He was the only person at school who thought Liam was even worth talking to; if he was cross then Liam was going to go hide under his duvet and never come out again. “I wasn’t thinking about Jenny, I was thinking about you, I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_ ,” Liam said miserably. “Please don’t hate me, I’m sorry, I’ll — I’ve never — I’ll leave you alone, or whatever you want, just don’t be cross with me.”

His face was bright red; the whole day had been the most embarrassing and humiliating thing Liam had ever experienced. He wanted to just sink down into the floor and never be seen again.

“What do you mean, you weren’t thinking about Jenny?” Harry asked, frowning. Liam wished he spoke a little faster. Waiting for the end of his sentences was agony. “I was gonna help you find a girl.”

“For the band, I know, I’m sorry—”

“No, Liam, shut up,” Harry said. His pouty frown had turned into a smile. A real one, not a sly one, or a sexy one. Harry’s real, delighted smile was breathtaking, and Liam’s stomach flipped over thinking he’d made Harry smile like that. “I thought…. Oh, but Liam. This is better.”

“It is?” Harry had lost him again. Liam was getting used to feeling totally bewildered by Harry. The important part was that Harry hadn’t told him to get lost yet. 

Harry grinned. “Yes. I don’t have to help you find a girl after all, do I? Because I was gonna, but then I was gonna hate her. I don’t want you to find a pretty band groupie. I want you to find me.”

If Liam had been hit with lightning he couldn’t have been more surprised. He tried to rewind through the weeks he’d known Harry, to see if that made any sense. 

It made exactly as much sense as everything else about Harry, which was to say, very little.

“I’ve never fancied a lad before,” Liam warned him. “I’m probably crap at it.”

Harry’s smile got a little shy. “You aren’t. You’re great so far, and you’re really fit. I like your dick. I like you.”

In Liam’s dirtiest dreams no one had ever said “I like your dick” to him. “You do?” he squeaked.

“Obviously,” said Harry. He tilted his head. “We weren’t really practicing to pull a girl, Liam. It was practice to pull me, only I thought you wouldn’t really want to. I fancy you. Didn’t you notice?”

“No,” said Liam definitely. Harry was cool, and popular, and weird, and talented, and he had the sexiest stare Liam had ever seen. It was actually impossible that he fancied Liam. “You wore _lip gloss_ ,” Liam said, as if that were the most inexplicable part. 

Harry grinned again. His eyes had gone dark and he was giving Liam a predatory smile that made Liam want to run away, or maybe throw himself on Harry. He couldn’t tell. “Did you like that? I rather did.”

“ _Girls_ wear lip gloss, Harry,” Liam explained patiently.

Harry shrugged. “I think there’s loads of things in this world you haven’t thought about yet, Liam. I think there’s loads of things you ought to try and see if you like them, but you’ve just already decided _this isn’t what lads do_. But you liked kissing me. You liked it when I touched you. And you were good at touching me.”

Liam’s cock couldn’t possibly get excited again, but it was trying. He wanted to touch Harry. He just… wasn’t sure he wanted to want that. “Harry, I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“That’s why you’ve got me,” said Harry, stepping closer. He grabbed Liam’s hand. “I know just what you ought to do.”

They were so close again, Liam was breathing in when Harry breathed out. “Because… Because you want us to be a band?”

“We’re going to be an _amazing_ band,” said Harry. Liam was so relieved Harry still wanted to be in a band with him that he barely reacted to Harry leaning in and kissing his neck. The drag of Harry’s mouth on his skin made Liam go still and totally blank inside. “And if we fancy each other, we can just make sure you feel sexy all the time, can’t we? Never mind the girls at school. Never mind anyone but us.” 

“If feeling sexy makes your band amazing, then we’re going to be the greatest band ever,” said Liam dumbly. Harry laughed.

“I bet we will,” Harry said. He leaned in and kissed Liam, grinding against him with his hips. Liam’s cock jerked to attention again, or tried to. Liam kissed him back desperately. He hadn’t thought he’d get to do this. He hadn’t thought he wanted to, and now it was everything he ever wanted to do in his life. Play guitar, and kiss Harry. That was it. 

Liam’s brain was entirely offline. His hands were on Harry’s arse, his tongue was in Harry’s mouth, and Harry still wanted to be in a band with him. “You can if you want,” Liam said breathlessly, mumbled between kisses that were getting increasingly frantic as Harry pressed his hips against Liam’s. He was hard. God, that was amazing. “Anytime, I mean.”

“Kiss you?” Harry asked, digging his hands into Liam’s hips.

Liam moaned. “Lip gloss. It’s fine. It’s — better than fine. It’s alright with me.”

Harry snorted. “Lip gloss is just the tip of the iceberg, Liam. You’ve got no idea. C’mon, we were just getting steamy.” He kissed Liam again, groaning into Liam’s mouth. He took one of Liam’s hands and put it on the button flies of his jeans. Liam’s hands were shaking as he tried to undo the buttons one-handed. He’d only just got the buttons undone and his hand nervously on Harry’s cock through his pants when Harry bit down, hard, on Liam’s lip, and grunted, coming. Suddenly Liam was holding him up, and Liam’s hand was damp, and his mouth felt raw, and he was hot and confused and amazed all at once.

Harry was the handsomest, weirdest, most popular boy at school and Liam had made him come. That was fantastic.

“I’m gonna need a long time to get my head around this,” Liam said quietly. “I’m not complaining. I’m just… new.”

“That’s okay,” Harry said, settling against Liam’s shoulder as if he planned to go to sleep standing up in the hallway outside the toilet. “We’ve got loads of time to practice.”

“Maybe we could practice in a bed?” Liam suggested hesitantly. Harry was getting heavy. “And… I really do need help with maths, Harry.”

Harry giggled into his shoulder. “Yes, yes you do. Come on.” He straightened up, looking half-asleep and delighted. Then he grabbed Liam by both hands and pulled him down the corridor to his bedroom.

Maths or snogging. Either way, Harry was improving Liam’s life tremendously. His mum was right; the guitar _had_ made him cool and got him a friend after all.


End file.
